People Couldn't Believe What I'd Become
by only-because3
Summary: A series of drabbles that for the time being, all have to do with Quinn Fabray
1. Chapter 1

Hello all! So, I randomly decided yesterday that I would write at least a drabble everyday until the Madonna episode. I was going to make each piece correspond with a Madonna song but then this popped into my head and decided to just write lol. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep all drabbles/oneshots (they'll definitely differ in length and pairings/characters) under this story or if I'm going to post them one by one. The lyric in the beginning is from 'Sally's Song' from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Alright, enough of my rambling, enjoy!

* * *

_The worst is just around the bend_

More often than not, he finds himself watching her without even realizing it.

Like when she sits at the desk they've shoved into the corner of his room and stretches her arms above her head before slowly bringing them down and stretching them to the side while he tries to play his Xbox. He watches the way her shoulder blades move through her tank top and the way her arms flex and relax. She bends her neck from left to right, stretching out whatever muscles may be sore there (she's still getting used to his bed) and then sits up straight, hands beginning to type furiously.

(His character always dies just before she starts typing.)

Or when she stands lazily in front of her locker, face forming a frown every time her belly skims across the cool metal.

(He loves her belly more than her.)

She doesn't notice it (or at least doesn't say anything about it) until she's coming back into his room one night (this is the third time she's woken up to go to the bathroom and she's not even six months yet).

She's in yet another tank top ("I'm hot all the time now, it's ridiculous. It's winter, shouldn't I at least feel like wearing a damn T-shirt," she bitches every time she gets dressed) and in a pair of his pajama pants (they're ginormous on her despite her belly; they're big on him so it looks like she's drowning in them) that hang _low_ on her hips. He scoots over on the bed to give her more room (this was new, him being allowed in the bed) and she pulls up the pants, effectively hiding her blue underwear from him, before sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

("Why do you wear the biggest pair of pants I own," he asked her one day and she shrugged.

"They're a hassle but they're comfy," she responded, patting his shoulder. "Just like you.")

"Why do you stare at me all the time," she asks, her back still to him as she inches the pant legs up.

He scoffs. "I don't stare at you."

She adjusts her pillow before finally laying back down on the bed, laughing as so does so. "Yes you do." She turns on her side to face him, her belly (their baby) in between them.

He rolls his eyes. "I don't stare at you _all the time_."

She smiles softly, pushing her blonde hair back (he used to hate blondes yet somehow he finds her hair absolutely perfect [he really hates how he sounds like such a bitch now]). "Maybe not _all _the time, but enough to make me feel like I have a permanent stalker." She rests a hand on the back of his neck, thumb lightly brushing along his jaw and she feels him relax underneath her touch.

"It's kinda hard not to look at you, what with you carrying my kid and all." She nods almost unnoticeably (most days, they don't even talk about the baby. When she is brought up, it makes everything kind of weird because Quinn doesn't know what she's going to do at all [she knows she can't keep her]) and sighs.

"I'm gonna break your heart," she whispers as he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her almost flush against him, their legs tangling together.

"Not before I break yours first." Her smile is sad now and truth be told, it makes him sad too.

At least they're honest with each other (they've lied to everyone for so long).

He kisses her lips and then tells her to go back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Super short drabble for Day 3 of my challenge :) Was hoping to get the second part of the the W/Q posted or a Wonderwall update but I wounded up being really really lazy today. I'm going to point out right now (since I've decided to post all the drabbles together) that all chapters are seperate from one another unless otherwise noted. Hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

This spring is unbearably hot. Rachel tells her it's actually really nice, the perfect mix of warm and breezy, and it makes her want to punch her in the face just a little bit.

They're laying on lawn chairs in the Berry's backyard because Rachel insists it's a beautiful day and it shouldn't be wasted inside. Quinn sits uncomfortably in a pair of mesh basketball shorts she borrowed from Puck (she can't fit into _anything _now) and a tank top, bitching about how it's too hot and that they should just go inside.

Rachel rolls her eyes from behind her old ray bans. "Then take off your tank top," she says like that's a perfectly acceptable answer. Quinn's mouth drops open in horror and Rachel rolls her eyes again. "You're wearing a bathing suit top underneath. It's not like I'm trying to perv on you."

"I'm about to pop Rachel. I'm not showing you my disgusting stomach." Rachel sits up in her chair, hands reaching over and tugging at Quinn's shirt. "Stop it," she says, pushing Rachel's hands away. "It's gross." Her hands find their way back to the hem on the tank top and roll it up over the blonde's extended stomach.

"You're gorgeous Quinn. I just wished you'd realize that." She gets up and settles in between Quinn's legs, pulling her tank top the rest of the way off. "Do you feel a little cooler?" She really doesn't want to nod because she doesn't want to give Rachel the satisfaction of being right. But then the baby starts kicking at her skin rapidly and she sighs a yes. Rachel grins and leans down to leave a kiss just below her belly button. "Your belly is quite literally an oven right now which explains why you've been feeling hot all the time."

Quinn reaches between the two chairs and grabs the small bottle of sunscreen, squeezing a liberal amount on her stomach. "I wish she'd come out already," she mutters, hands laying back down at her sides when Rachel's hands start rubbing the sunscreen lotion over her belly.

(This has always been one of her favorite things about summer, the smell of sunscreen. It makes her happy.)

"She'll come out when she's ready," Rachel responds, hands working miracles on her stomach. "She's just giving you a little time to enjoy the weather with me." Quinn's eyes close tiredly when Rachel's hands drift up, smearing leftover sunscreen over her chest. "Plus I'm having loads of fun trying to coax her out of you."

Quinn opens her eyes with a smile, leaning forward and kissing the brunette.

(This is going to be one of her new favorite things, she can tell.)


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all! So, I didn't post anything yesterday for my own little challenge but it was Glee day and I had to make cookies and got to a viewing party so y'all can forgive me right? Anyways, I wrote this bit today after watching Hell-O, so I suppose it contains spoilers. I'm really hoping to get the next chapter of Wonderwall up tonight but I have homework I've yet to get to so we'll see. Lyrics from John Mayer's 'Slow Dancing in a Burning Room'. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

_This is the deep and dying breath of_  
_This love that we've been working on_

When he comes home after basketball practice, his sister is sitting in the living room alone.

(Most days he comes home, Quinn would be sitting next to his sister, watching and helping the younger girl with her homework.)

"Where's Q?"

Jenna looks up from her book and rolls her eyes. "She's crying." He lets out a loud sigh, dropping his duffle bag next to the couch. "Can you not sound so pissed off? You're the reason she's crying."

"_Shut up_ Jenna." He climbs the stairs two by two and then goes down the hall to the last door on the left.

He walks in without knocking (it's his room after all).

Her back is facing him and her shoulders are slumped, her blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head. "What are you crying about today," he asks and he can hear her scoff.

"I'm crying because I fucking _hate_ you," she spits, hands going up to her face to wipe away the liquid trails on her cheeks.

This is how it always should've been between them. They never should've made believe they could be anything more than this.

He plops down on the bed behind her, arms stretching out over his head. "If you hate me so much you can leave."

"I would if I could." She rolls her shoulders back and clears her throat, hand wiping away the tears that fell on to her chest. "I can't believe I ever considered keeping this baby with you." She stands up, hands resting low on her back as she does so. "Or that I called you special. Stupid pregnancy brain." She pulls down her tank top that has risen up over her extended belly

"Jesus, does this have to do with Finn again?"

Everything has to do with Finn he's come to realize.

"Do you realize how much better my life would be right now if Rachel Berry hadn't said anything? Gosh, not even that. My life would be so much better if I hadn't deluded myself into thinking you'd actually change." She walks around the room, picking up her backpack from the ground at the foot of the bed, taking out her books and sheet music. "I know that Finn treated me like shit and that I fucked him over, but he was ten times better than you."

"You're such a bitch sometimes it's unbelievable."

She misses the days where this used to be a compliment.

She sits down at the desk in the corner of his room and opens up her Spanish book with a roll of her eyes. "Let's take a look at the reasons I'm being such a bitch. One, I'm pregnant with your child thus screwing up my normal hormonal balance. Two, you called me _fat_. Three, you're flirting with Cheerios left and right in front of the whole school. Four, by doing reason three, you make me look like an idiot in front of the whole damn school for the second time this year, the first being when you knocked me up." She takes her eyes off her book and it's then that he can see the new and left over tears in her eyes.

Her voice gets stronger but he can tell that it's fighting back a sob. "Five, Brittany and Santana are sluttin' on Finn. Six, I'm pretty sure your mother and sister hate me. Seven, I know I fucked up with Finn but I cant stop looking at him and thinking about how _badly_ I wish that this demon seed was his because then I wouldn't be crying every day because I _hate_ myself." Tears start making their way down her flawless skin once again and she doesn't even attempt to push them away this time. "So _sorry _I'm being such a bitch Noah."

They stare at each other for a while until finally Puck gets up and kneels down in front of her. "I'm sorry," he tries weakly and Quinn just shakes her head.

"Don't say that if you don't mean it," she says eyes returning to the open book in front of her. "Or if you just want me to shut up."

"I'm saying it 'cause I mean it okay?" He picks up the hand in her lap only to have her rip it away from him.

"What are we doing?" He shrugs (he doesn't know). "We don't work."

"We could try."

She scoffs. "What have we been doing the past two weeks? You can't change and I don't want you."

"Quinn,"

"No. It's true. When Finn's in the same vicinity as me I can't take my eyes off him. You flirt with so many people that I practically have my mean face on 24/7 now and it's a lot of work following you around to drag you away from said girls. We're not working out."

It's silent again (she has nothing more to say and he can't tell her she's wrong) before Puck sighs, running his hand over his mohawk. "So what now?"

"I don't know…" she answers with a frown, hands nervously twitching over her stomach.

That's really the story of their life right now.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey all! So, I meant to write two updates for today because I skipped out on Glee day but instead I went to a peewee T-ball game (they little girls were SO adorable it was ridiculous). So I come bearing only one update. Sort of melancholy but I like it a lot. Enjoy!

* * *

She sits in a rocking chair in the corner of the room, hands running over her extended stomach. She's huge and the nursery is finished, currently filled with the unwrapped presents she received at her baby shower. She smiles sadly and looks out the window at the tree that sits on the lawn of their house. This feels weird and she knows it shouldn't but she can't help herself.

"Hey," he says softly from the doorway and she turns, settling her hazel eyes on him. She gives him a smile without traces of sadness and waves him into the room. "Got a lot of swag I see." She nods and leans further into the rocking chair. "You're uncomfortable."

"I feel weird," she admits and he keeps his eyes on her stomach. "I know that I shouldn't but after everything…"

He nods because he gets it. He knows what this must feel like for her, the surrealism of it all. "He'll be here soon enough," he says and she lets out a sigh. "Does that make it better? That he's a boy?"

She looks at him and bites her bottom lip, teeth scraping away the chapstick she applied in the backyard just before she opened her gifts. "I think I'd feel worse if she were a girl."

He nods. He thinks he'd feel worse if she had a girl too. "You love him though right?" He's not questioning her, he just needs to hear it.

"Of course I do," she says quietly, eyes looking down at her stomach before she looks at him again, watching as he settles himself on the floor, back resting against the white crib he helped set up. "But I've done this before… I mean, not all _this_," her hands motion around the room, "but _this."_ Her hands rest on her belly. "And my body remembers everything, and I remember everything and I just feel horrible that she's not here… It's weird knowing he's here to stay when she wasn't."

"It was different back then Q."

She nods. "I know," she says breathlessly, easing herself out of the rocking chair and on to the ground in front of him. "I think about it sometimes… A lot more now than before."

He smiles at her admission. "Yeah, me too." She leans forward and grabs his hand, fingertips running lightly over his knuckles. "What do you think about?"

She cocks her head to the side a little, gaze focused on his hand. "It depends. Sometimes I think about how awesome it could've been. Us in this tiny but perfect apartment with our baby girl growing up to be beautiful and perfect. I'd force you to go with us to Fairytale Town and then you'd drag us to the zoo and she'd be so happy that she got to do both and we'd be happy because she was." She knows he's smiling even though she's not looking at him and it makes her grin. "You'd take her to the lions and tigers because they're badass and then you'd take her to the reptile house and lift her up so she could see in all the high exhibits. And I'd wait in line with her to meet Mother Goose while you bought food. Then we'd play with her at the shoe slide and we'd be laughing and it'd be gorgeous."

She locks eyes with him, fingers lacing together as her blonde hair falls back around her face. "But that thought makes me sad so I try to think about what would've realistically happened on a day to day basis. We'd be tired and working all the time. We wouldn't have finished school and out tiny apartment wouldn't have been perfect, it would've been depressing. She'd still be beautiful but none of us would laugh nearly as much as we did in the other version of us." Her smile is sad now.

"It's easier to think it would've been horrible."

The happy version of them makes him sad too.

She shrugs. "Makes me feel like I didn't make a mistake."

"We could've been awesome though."

She smiles and watches him stand up, arms outstretched to help her up. She wobbles a bit, her belly throwing her off balance. "We could've," she answers truthfully. She kisses his cheek and he's smiling again.

"Alright, come on," he says slipping an arm over her shoulder and walking them towards the door. "I'm sure your husband's freaking out in your kitchen because you've gone all emo again. I think you're gonna give him a complex before this pregnancy is over."

She giggles and leans into his side. "He just doesn't get it Noah… You're the only one that does."

"I know, that's why I'm your best friend. Maybe you should throw him a bone once in a while," he suggests and she attempts to shrug against him.

"I try. I think the whole thing weirds him out a bit though. And I'm sure it doesn't help that you're the only one I'll talk to it about."

"It's because he still sees me as a threat," he says proudly and she rolls her eyes.

"Only in our dreams goof," she says sweetly and kisses his cheek once more before she pulls away from him. She goes over to the sink where her husband washes the dishes and her smile gets wider than it was with him. She saddles up next to him, kisses his lips and then helps him dry the plates.

Puck bows out quietly_._


	5. Chapter 5

This is super random. I almost bailed on today's update because I'm tried and I didn't get home till late. But I made a promise to myself so here we are. I had a break through with Wonderwall today so if you're waiting on the next chapter of that, it should be up by Monday. Enjoy!

* * *

This is quite possibly the best thing that's ever happened to her.

She's sitting in a Denny's on one side of the booth, Puck and Rachel across from her. They stare at her wide eyes as she finishes off her burger, her hands immediately reaching for the basket of chicken strips. The two brunettes have their own plates in front of them (Puck got a Grand Slam while Rachel got the club sandwich) but neither one has touched any of their food, and instead silently count to when Quinn will hit her wall.

She's eaten a slice of pie, an order of country potatoes, and the cheeseburger meal.

"She's like that fat kid with the cake in Matilda," Puck whispers in her ear and she kicks him underneath the table.

"Um, Quinn," she starts carefully, watching as the blonde dips a chicken strip into the ranch, eating it greedily. "When the doctor said that you were underweight, I don't think he meant-"

"To eat like you just recovered from anorexia. Fuck Quinn, you're eating more than I've seen Finn eat," Puck finishes and Quinn rolls her eyes, wiping her face off with the paper napkin.

"For the first time in a _long_ time, I've been given a license to eat. The only other time I had the ability to eat like this was when I was six." She picks up another fry, dipping it in ketchup and popping it into her mouth. "But then my mom put me on a diet that I've been on for the past ten years. _God_ I've forgotten how much I can enjoy food!"

"Your mom put you on a diet at six," Rachel asks, finding yet another reason to be happy that Quinn wasn't living under their roof anymore.

She nods and grabs another chicken strip. "I was a porker. I ate like, all the time. And my mom realized it was a problem when I was bigger than my sister even though she was three years older." She licks her fingers and leans into the green vinyl seat, hands rubbing her extended stomach.

Puck chokes on his soda. "You used to be fat?"

"Yep. Shocking, I know." She glances at the table and then back up at her friends. "Why haven't you guys eaten yet? You've barely touched your plates and I'm already done."

Rachel perks up, not wanting to give the blonde some sort of complex. "I'm not as hungry as I thought I was actually…"

"You're not gonna regress are you? 'Cause I love you, but I think I'm going to need time to process you staying a fat chick."

"_Noah!" _Rachel smacks his chest, sending him a death glare from beside him.

Quinn just smiles. "I'm not gonna get fat again. I hate feeling like this again but it's nice to know I have a free pass for the next few months." She glances at Rachel's plate. "So are you gonna eat that or not?"


	6. Chapter 6

You guys, I just... I don't even know where this came from. I glanced at my copy of The Hitcher earlier and then went about my day. When I sit down to write, this comes out. I don't know and I'm sorry lol. Enjoy?

* * *

Quinn sits crumbled in the backseat, her too small dress showing off her black bra and boobs that still haven't gone back down to their regular size. Her legs are splayed in front of her, bent almost awkwardly so that her black bare feet don't hit the other side of the car, her ripped dress pushed up to reveal almost all of her legs.

Rachel sits in the passenger seat, brown hair being whipped around by the rolled down window. Her sweater is dirty and hangs off one of her shoulders, the cream color drowned out by dirt and blood. She stares blankly out the window past Puck's head, watching as the scenery passes blurry and dark. She glances down at her feet. Her nail polished is chipped and she only has one flip-flop.

Puck races down the highway at 80 miles an hour. His hands grip the steering wheel so tight that it turns his knuckles white, making the blood on them stand out even more. The cut on his eyebrow is still bleeding fast, so much so that he thinks if he doesn't put pressure on it soon, he won't be able to see out of that eye. He gropes around for his jacket before he realizes it's gone, they used it to cover his face, and he curses under his breath. He chews on his bottom lip before switching gears and looking over at Rachel, and then through the rear view mirror at Quinn.

"We fucked up." Quinn pulls her legs closer to her body, revealing the deep cut on her calf. Rachel takes off her sweater (winces slightly at the stinging she feels in her shoulder) and leans into the backseat to wrap the sweater tight around the open gash.

Puck slows down the car until finally they come to a stop in the middle of the desert in the middle of the night. He lifts up the bottom of his shirt as he turns off the car, putting pressure on to his own cut.

"What do we do now?" Quinn shrugs and Puck's face is hidden by his shirt.

"We're in the middle of nowhere right," Quinn asks and the brunettes look at her skeptically. "Why not just dump him?" She starts biting on her nails as soon as she suggests it.

"Nah, that's not how shit works out. People _always_ get caught, even when they think that dumping a body in the middle of nowhere will work," Puck retorts, surveying how much blood is on his shirt. "And besides, it's dark as fuck right now. Who's to say we'll get the fuck back to the car after we dump him a few miles into the dark?"

"Well what the fuck do you think we should do Puck? We have a body in the god damn trunk and we look guilty as hell," Quinn bitches and Rachel decides to step in.

"You guys, we can't fight about this. We need to keep thinking rationally."

Quinn laughs. The irony is all too obvious.

"It's two thirty. We're covered in blood and dirt. I'm topless and Quinn might as well be naked. You have the knife in your pockets. We need to do something _now_ that doesn't include fighting." She looks between Quinn and Puck, waiting for them both to nod in agreement. When they finally do, she sighs lightly. "Noah, what do you suggest we do?"

"Clean the car, then dump it somewhere out here. It's not like it's any of ours anyway." She and Quinn share a look. "It'll take too much time, I know. But do you know how much time we'll spend in prison otherwise?"

"Puck, it's two in the god damn morning. Where are we going to get cleaning supplies and how the _fuck_ will we get out of this god damn desert after we ditch the car?"

"Can you stop being such a bitch for _two god damn seconds_?!"

"ENOUGH!" They both shut their mouths and look at Rachel. "Take off all your clothes," she instructs, opening the glove box and digging around for a second. "Cut off the tags." She hands Quinn the pocket knife first. She grabs the keys from Puck's hands.

"What're you doing," he asks as Quinn looks at her skeptically from the backseat.

"Taking control since you two apparently lose your shit when you murder someone." She opens the car door and walks around to the trunk, sliding the key into the hole and lifting the heavy metal.

She can't see his face (they wrapped Puck's jean jacket around it and tied it with the strings from Quinn's dress) but the rest of his body looks so fucked up that she can't even fathom how bad his face is. She looks around the trunk, trying to spot anything that'll tell her what this guy was like before they ran into each other. There's a spare tire, trash, and (to her delight) heroin needles.

"Noah," she says loudly, looking around the car to lock eyes with his in the side view mirror. "Check the glove box and everywhere else for drugs. If your find some, don't touch it."

Quinn steps out the other side of the car in her bra and underwear, tags in one hand, her and Puck's clothes in the other. "What now?"

Rachel reaches around the dead body and grabs an old Wal-Mart bag and a happy meal box. "Put the clothes in one, tags in the other," she instructs and the blonde does as she's told. "Help me get him into the back seat."

Quinn's eyes go ride. "No fucking way. I'm not sitting back there with him."

Rachel grabs her wrist. "You'll sit in the front with us just _hurry the fuck up."_

"Found… heroin? Coke? I don't know. It's powdery and in a tiny bag, I'm assuming it's some sort of drug," Puck calls from inside the car and Rachel nods her head.

"Come help us."

They manage to get the body into the backseat and Rachel props his head up against the door handle. She leaves the jacket on his face. "Okay. We're going to drive to the first gas station. We're going to call Brittany and ask her to come get us. We'll drive back to this spot, ditch the car and then ride home with her. When we reach city limits, we throw out the bag with the clothes. When we get home, we'll dump the happy meal box in some random trashcan. Brittany won't ask questions and we'll never bring this up again."

Puck grips the steering wheel, Quinn pushed close to him as Rachel slams the door behind her. They look at each other before nodding at Rachel.


	7. Chapter 7

Wrote this for a prompt over on the glee_angst_meme on livejournal. I tweaked the prompt a bit and I'm not sure how I feel about the piece quite yet. I don't know how all the hospital and lawyer stuff works but I wrote it to the best of my ability and knowledge (which consists of episodes of Law & Order and ER). Lyrics from Touch, Fell, & Lose by Ryan Adams. I hope y'all enjoy! Oh! And Quinn actually takes a major backseat in this one. I'd say the main focus in this oneshot is Puck, Rachel, The Fabrays, and Brittany/Santana.

* * *

_If knew I was never gonna talk to you tomorrow  
and oh, the birds how they sing  
if you were a bird could you sing me a song of sorrow  
'cause all I know from you is grief _

As it turns out, you can't leave school just because your girlfriend's water broke despite the fact that she's only 33 weeks unless you can contact your parents so that they can verbally sign you out.

If you're the baby's father however, you're given a free pass.

"Oh my God," Quinn moans, hands clutching her swollen stomach (that's gotten much bigger but not big enough) as Rachel and Puck try to keep her standing. She doubles over, blonde hair hiding her pained face from the students that are peering out of their classrooms to look at what's going on. "It's too early, it's too early…"

"Quinn, you gotta keep walking. We need to get you to the front entrance so that you can get into the ambulance when it gets here," Puck says gently as Quinn's nails dig into his hand.

"Noah I think you should pick her up," Rachel says softly, looking up at him as she tries to pull Quinn's hair away from her face. "Honestly, if she's walking around it'll just make the baby come out faster." He nods and waits until Quinn straightens up to wrap an arm around her back and legs. She holds on to the back of his neck for dear life and she tries to focus on what Rachel's telling her. "It's going to be fine Quinn. The baby's going to be fine."

(It's not the baby they should be worried about.)

They make it to the front doors just as the ambulance pulls up and Mr. Schue comes running up behind them, followed by the secretary from the office. "I just heard," he mutters, looking at Quinn whose face is scrunched up in pain again. She's not screaming or yelling, just silently crying and breaking the skin on Puck's neck.

"Mr. Schue, they won't let me leave without my dads' permission," Rachel mutters quietly, as they watch the EMT take Quinn from Puck's arms.

"We only have room for one other person," he says and Puck looks back at her.

"Go Noah."

"Rachel. I need Rachel too," Quinn says as they strap her down on the gurney. She's so scared and she's shaking and then she looks at Puck's shirt. "Oh my god."

Rachel's eyes follow Quinn's and it's then that she see's the blood. "Quinn, I'll be right behind you guys I promise," she says confidently. (Mr. Schue hears her voice break off at the end and slides his hand into hers.)

Puck climbs in after Quinn and one of the EMTs, the doors slamming shut and the ambulance pulling out of the parking lot.

"Rachel, you're not allowed to leave without parental permission," the secretary says from behind them. She clasps her hands together tightly and looks down at the side walk. "But if you decided to skip, I didn't see anything."

Rachel glances back at her with a small smile and then looks at Mr. Schue. "Let's go."

* * *

Nobody's telling them anything because they're not family and she can't help but think this is one of the worst moments of her life.

(What she doesn't know is that the worst moment will actually happen two minutes and three seconds from now.)

"Rachel, you should sit down," Mr. Schue tries but Rachel just shakes her head, glancing over that the desk where nurses scribble things down on clipboards.

"Do you think everything is going alright?"

"I'm sure everything's fine."

She nods and tries to reason with herself. Everything is fine. Babies have a great survival rate this early right? Sure her lungs aren't fully developed but all the important stuff is there… she just needs to grow a little bit more and doctors have managed to do wonderful things with premies.

She looks up at the ER entrance and stops pacing. "Mrs. Fabray?" The older blonde woman looks at her with a raised brow and it's then that Rachel realizes she's never actually met Quinn's parents, just seen their pictures and heard stories. Judy ignores her, walking up the desk where nurses tell her to hold on just a second.

"My underage daughter is in labor. I'd talk to me now if you want to get paid for delivering her baby," she says calmly and one nurse, an older redhead, stops typing and thrusts the incomplete forms into Judy's perfectly manicured hands.

"The father tried filling them out but didn't know much and then he went into the room with your daughter," the nurse responds and then glances up at Judy just as she starts typing again. "The faster you fill it our, the faster I can help you."

Russell Fabray walks through the automatic doors next, eyes landing on his wife. Rachel sits down next to Mr. Schue and watches as the two blondes quickly fill out the paperwork. "Why are they here," she whispers.

"Quinn's underage… I'd assume they have to notify her," he answers before shrugging. "I don't know… I've never dealt with something like this before…" Rachel nods.

This isn't something they talk about in parenting books.

She stares at her lap until she notices Mr. Schue sit up straight next to her. She glances at her teacher and then follows his gaze to Puck, who's coming out of on of the rooms. He's covered in more blood than before and he's not even attempting to hide the tears that are falling down his face. His hands are clenched into fists and he looks up and locks eyes with her.

"I'm so sorry," he mutters and she's instantly next to him.

"What's wrong? Noah, what happened?" He cries harder and falls to his knees in front of her. She wraps her arms around him, ignores the fact that Quinn's blood is staining their clothes, and holds on to him tight.

The door he just came out of opens up and a nurse is scribbling down something on one clipboard, another one underneath her arm. She has blood on her too. "What happened," Rachel asks and the nurse looks up at her with wide eyes. She opens her mouth, ready to tell her that she can't release any information to non family members but then looks down at Puck crying against her.

"Time of birth was 1:16. She was taken up to the NICU under the name Fabray. Time of death was 1:36."

She doesn't know how she manages to ask but somehow the words, "And Quinn?" make it past her lips.

The nurse frowns. "I told you… Time of death 1:36."

She vaguely hears the words 'extreme and rapid blood loss, did everything' before she starts screaming.

* * *

Puck keeps staring at his hands. Her blood is on him and he wants to clean it off. But he can't because it's _hers_ and now she's gone and it's all his fucking fault.

Rachel sits next to him, finally quiet and staring into space. They had to give her a sedative in order to stop the screaming.

Mr. Schue comes back from outside, slipping his cell phone back into his pocket. He's notified Ms. Pillsbury and the rest of Glee. His face is red and shiny and his hair is no longer in place. He slumps down next to Rachel, his eyes barely meeting the Fabrays.

Her parents sit side by side. Her mother's flipping through a magazine and her father has his head in his hands. They haven't asked why Puck's here and not Finn. Mr. Schue doesn't think they will.

He glances at Puck who looks like he's going to start crying again.

None of this was supposed to happen.

* * *

Just before the glee kids arrive, one of the nurses takes Puck to go wash up. "Then we'll go see your daughter okay?"

Rachel still hasn't spoken or moved and Mr. Schue watches as Mrs. Fabray picks up another magazine. Mr. Fabray's shoulders are shaking. There's a man screaming in one of the rooms around them, drowning out the sobs of the older man.

Brittany and Santana walk in first. Brittany's pale face is red and Santana struggles to keep on her bitchy look. She takes one look at Rachel and it falls. She takes one look at Quinn's parents and its back in full force. "What the fuck are they doing here?"

The two blondes look up and Brittany tries to pull Santana to the free seats next to Mr. Schue. "No, this is ridiculous. You haven't spoken to her since you kicked her out of the god damn house and now you're going to sit here like you give a fuck?"

"S, please stop," Brittany cries and Santana shakes her head.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves," she spits and finally lets Brittany pull her into a seat.

The rest of Glee filters in along with Ms. Pillsbury, each one crying. Finn looks the worst. He stops in front of Mr. Schue and Rachel. "I'm so sorry," he mutters and, really, they all are.

The one that surprises him less than it should is Sue. She walks in and looks at the corner of the room filled with the Glee club and two of her Cheerios. Her red eyes stand out against her black tracksuit. "William," she says, her voice cracking as she sits in between him and Rachel.

Puck appears with the nurse on their way to the elevator, dressed now in a set of scrubs (his bloody clothes are in a bag in his hand). "Rachel." Everyone looks up except Rachel. He walks up to her, kneels down so that he can meet her eyes.

She's looking past him, at the spot where they broke down.

"Rachel, you need to come with me." He tugs on her hand and she barely moves. "We need to see the baby," he whispers and suddenly she blinks and looks him in the eye.

She nods and they stand up together.

* * *

They reek of bacterial soap and Rachel has to change into a pair of scrubs herself.

The nurse leads them through a sea of incubators (Rachel has to force herself not to cry) before stopping in front of one that reads Baby Fabray. The look through the plastic at a baby that's too small and covered in a bunch of wires and tubes (Rachel has to force herself not to throw up). "This is your daughter," the nurse says with a cautious smile.

Puck nods and tries to see as much of his baby girl as he can. Her skin's translucent and her eyes are covered. He can see light blonde hair peeking out from underneath her pink hat and he lets out a breath. "She has Quinn's hair."

Rachel slides her hand into his right before she starts to cry. "You have to name her," she says quietly.

This whole room is too quiet.

"You have a say too." Had this been any other situation, if Quinn had been alive, he would've said that Quinn would kill him if he didn't consult Rachel on the baby's name.

"_Right now Rachel's my girlfriend. That kinda gives her some pull with the baby names," she said with a small smile, baby name book resting open on her belly._

He doesn't think he can say Quinn and kill in the same sentence though. Not now.

* * *

Two days later, they settle on Holly Fabray Puckerman. The nurse smiles when he signs the birth certificate then tells him that the Fabrays would like to see the baby. He looks down at his baby girl and then at Rachel. She shrugs. "Sure… I guess they can."

She's already lost her mother, he's not going to deny her them.

It gets crowded when they enter and the nurse asks for Rachel to leave. She nods and hugs Noah before scooting past Judy. "She's going to be beautiful," Russell says hoarsely and Noah suddenly feels like he needs to be away from them. It doesn't feel right.

"Noah, can I talk to you for a moment?" He meets Quinn's mother's eyes and the only thing he can do is follow her into the hall. "We'd like to help." He lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I'd like that Mrs. Fabray."

"Russell and I know that you're only 16 and don't have a job and you have school. We think that it'll be for the best." His eyebrows furrow together.

"Excuse me?"

"We'd like custody of her."

A nurse passes by them, ready to head back in for her rounds in the NICU and he catches her arm. "The Fabrays are not allowed to see Baby Puckerman okay?" She looks between the two and nods. When she slips into the room he turns back to look at Judy. "Fuck you."

* * *

The next day he visits with Rachel, a doctor asks if they have a different insurance. "What do you mean? She was covered yesterday," Rachel says and the doctor hangs his head.

"The Fabrays have taken her off their insurance."

He leaves the NICU and punches a wall. "Noah, it'll be fine. We'll see how much your insurance covers and then we'll figure out what to do for the rest. I'm sure my dads will be more than willing to pay." She sits down next to him on the ground. "It'll be okay."

"It wasn't last time." She stares forward and lets her shoulders slump.

* * *

They don't tell them about Quinn's funeral. They only find out because Mrs. Hudson saw the obituary in the newspaper. It didn't list where they were holding the wake but it doesn't matter. Most of McKinley High shows up at the funeral and Rachel thinks this may be the first time she's seen Brittany and Santana in normal clothes.

Judy glares at her and Noah. Russell can't take his eyes off the casket.

Afterwards, family members go to wherever the wake is going to be. The people from McKinley High go to the park off of 12th and sit around talking. After a few hours, most of the students and teachers start filing out. When the sun starts to set its just Glee club left, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury.

Sue shows up with food for them.

They all talk and laugh and there are some tears. Sue tells them to stop crying because it makes them all look ridiculous (Tears well up in her eyes but she blinks until they're gone).

It seems like any issue they had with one another is gone and Mr. Schue can't help but smile.

* * *

The doctor tells them with a smile that Holly's doing great. She's gaining weight and she's right on track. He also tells them that any hospital bill that was left in the balance is taken care of.

Puck looks at her. She shakes her head.

The next day at school, Coach Sylvester corners her. "Is she doing okay?" Rachel nods. "I better get to see her before Schue."

Rachel smiles. "Of course." The coach nods and then starts to walk down the hall. "Um, Coach Sylvester?" She glances over her shoulder. "Thank you."

Rachel thinks she sees a hint of a smile. But then Sue turns away from her and pushes a kid out of her way.

* * *

He gets the papers as soon as he gets home from the hospital. His mom's already looking like she's going to cry again.

His eyes scan over the papers before he grabs his keys and gets back into the car.

* * *

"They can't do this can they," he questions as soon as Rachel opens the door, thrusting the papers into her face.

Her eyes go wide and she snatches them from him. "Daddy! I need you to look at these for me."

* * *

John Berry takes his glasses off and tosses them on top of the legal papers. "They've got a decent case," he mutters, running his hand over his face.

"She's _my_ daughter! They don't have a higher rank on me," Puck yells and Rachel grabs his hand. "They can't take her away from me."

"Right now they're trying to make you out to be an unfit father. You're underage, so that's a strike against you. You have no job, that's another strike. Your grades haven't been very good, but they have been improving so this is good. You've gotten the hospital bills figured out, that's good too." He looks down at the papers once more before sighing. "I think I'll be able to get the judge to grant you a trial period with her once she's released from the hospital. You haven't been a _parent_ quite yet and so the judge is likely to give you a fair chance."

Puck nods and sits down next to Rachel. "They won't take her from you," she says confidently.

He wonders how Quinn was able to put so much faith in Rachel because right now, he just wants to tell her that she's wrong.

* * *

He doesn't know how this happened, but he's in Target buying stuff for the baby with Santana and Brittany. They stand on either side of him as he pushes the cart, each one looking at all the clothes and toys. "We have to get the smallest stuff right? Because she's so small?" He nods and Brittany dashes out in front of them.

"DUCKS ARE ON THIS ONE!" She holds up the dress with a bright smile and Santana frowns.

"That's way too big Brit."

She shrugs and tosses it into the cart. "She'll grow into it."

Quinn and Rachel had already bought all the big stuff. The crib, a changing table, and a dresser. He still needs to stock up on formula and bottles (when he asked Rachel why they only bought two bottles she looked down and bit her lip.

"She was going to breast feed." She shrugged and bit her lip harder before letting it go. "We only bought them so she could pump for when we were at school."). Not to mention bibs and clothes and diapers. And pacifiers and a baby tub.

He runs his hand tiredly over his shaved head as the Cheerios fill the cart with stuff for his daughter.

He can't afford this.

(He knows that the Fabrays can.)

When he frowns Brittany hugs him. He smiles and Santana doesn't hit him.

When the get to the register, the girls pay for everything. "What're you doing," he asks and Santana rolls her eyes.

"We're paying silly," Brittany answers and he just shakes his head.

He finally realizes why these two girls were Quinn's best friends.

* * *

Mr. Berry did what he said he would. Puck has a trail period, six weeks, to prove that he can be a good father. The day Holly gets released is the day the countdown starts.

The doctor says that she's almost five and a half pounds and that everything is doing great.

When they see her eyes for the first time, they're blue. "She's going to have Quinn's eyes," Rachel says from over his shoulder, watching as he carefully holds her for the first time.

"She's gonna look exactly like her." Holly smiles.

* * *

Two days before she's released, they start bringing in Glee club members to see her.

(Coach Sylvester got to see her first, as promised.)

They all agree that she's beautiful. "Doesn't look anything like you, thank god," Mercedes says after she passes the baby back to Rachel. Puck just smiles.

The day she is released, the Fabrays are at the hospital. Rachel holds the car seat close to her and glares. "We just want to see her," Judy tries and Rachel shakes her head.

"He has six weeks. You two shouldn't be here." Judy rolls her eyes. Russell just looks at the car seat sadly.

"C'mon Judy."

* * *

The first night, Rachel stays with him. They take turns getting up to feed and change her.

The next night Brittany and Santana come over. "Rachel's vocal lessons go late today," Santana answered when the showed up on his doorstep after practice. Most of the night Brittany got up with Holly. Santana kept muttering "Why the fuck did I volunteer for this?" while Puck watched the blonde carefully.

He trusted Brittany but Holy was so fragile and he can't help but worry.

The third night he's on his own. Rachel offers to come over but he shakes his head. He needs to do this on his own. "You're never going to be alone in this Noah. Glee club will help and I'll _always_ be here for her and for you."

He hugged her and then told her to go home.

He makes it through the night without any major mishaps.

He can do this. He can do this.

* * *

He can't do this. It's week four and he's freaking out. He's barely gotten any sleep and he knows that his grades are slipping. That job that he said he'd look for? Nonexistent. How the fuck was he supposed to get a job when he can barely handle school and Holly?

"She'd be better off with the Fabrays."

Santana slaps him.

"Better off with the _Fabrays_? _You'd_ bet better off she was with them. She would end up like a step ford wife just like Quinn's sister… Do you not remember how much Quinn _hated_ living there? How bad they treated her? They threw her out Puck! And didn't bat a fucking eye until their daughter _died_." Brittany stands up from her seat on the couch, holding Holly closer to her.

"Its okay baby," she whispers as the baby sucks on the bottle.

"They're looking for a replacement Puck. They don't want Holly, they just want Quinn back."

"Is that really so bad? To want her back?"

Santana shuts her mouth.

* * *

Rachel doesn't slap him but almost does.

The nursery is still set up in her house, except this time there's new furniture (she gave him the set they had already bought) and she's agreed to watch Holly for the weekend. "Give me her so I don't kill you," she says with an outstretched hand. He hands her the car seat and she smiles down at the baby. She sets it on the couch and takes the newborn out, hand running softly over her blonde hair.

"I know that it's hard Noah. I get it, I really do." He rolls his eyes. "But if you let them take her, I'll never forgive you."

"How do you know she'd be so worse off," he asks, watching as she rummages through the diaper bag for a pacifier.

"I don't know if she'd be worse off. What I do know is that Quinn would never let them have her." She locks eyes with him. "Quinn wouldn't stand for this."

He slumps down next to her. "I don't know if I can do it Rachel…" He hangs his head and squeezes his eyes shut. "I love her so much, but I just don't have it in me to do this."

Rachel's quiet before she drops her forehead on to his shoulder. "Then win her and give her to me." He turns his head to look at her and she stares back seriously. "The judge and the Fabrays will think you have her. So long as you're around to sign off on legal documents, I'll do the rest."

"Rachel…"

"I can't lose her too Noah."

He nods.

* * *

Even though he's proven that he can raise her, he still doesn't have a job and his grades have fallen. "I'd like to give her to you, I really would. But I don't think you're ready for it," the judge says and Puck can't stop himself from crying. "The Fabrays can readily take care of her."

"Your honor, I understand the concern. But I'd like to point out that most teenage parents struggle with the same things that Mr. Puckerman is struggling with. To take his child away is like saying that no parent who goes to some sort of schooling or lacks a job is unfit to raise a child. In this day and age, most adults are losing their jobs and still have to provide for their children. Mr. Puckerman is _trying _and that's the best anyone can do for his daughter right now."

"The rest of the population is not the one in question here Mr. Berry." The judge looks between the two parties and leans into his chair. "Split custody until Mr. Puckerman can prove that he can provide for his daughter on his own."

The pound of the gavel makes Rachel throw up.

* * *

Judy takes Holly to the car before anyone can even say goodbye.

"We just wanted to be apart of her life," Russell tries. "We need to try and make it up to…"

"So because you're guilty for kicking your own daughter out, you take away someone else's?" Rachel asks. "She won't make Quinn come back and she won't erase what you've done."

"That's enough Rachel." Her father puts a hand on her shoulder and she shrugs it off.

"If you wanted to even attempt to right your wrongs to her, you wouldn't have even tried to take her." Rachel turns to look at Puck who's still sitting on the steps of the courthouse, head in his hands. "You're all disgusting," she mutters before she walks to the car.

* * *

He knocked Quinn up. It's his fault she's dead.

He tells himself that that's why Holly will be better without him being her fulltime parent.

He can't kill her too.

* * *

Rachel doesn't sing outside of glee anymore. She tried to sing a lullaby to Holly but her voice cracked and she stopped trying.

When she does sing in Glee, it's not as good as it was before. Everyone has been getting more solos to pick up the slack.

She goes once a week to Quinn's grave.

Noah's always there before her.

They sit next to each other in silence, fingers laced together.

* * *

At the next hearing (it's two months later and when they see Holly they can't believe how much she's grown), Puck is awarded the weekends.

He nods before looking back down at his lap.

Russell stops the judge. "I don't want custody."

"Honey?" Judy looks up at him, worried eyes boring into his skin as their attorney tells him to sit down.

"All I want is to be able to visit her when I'd like, with in reason." He looks at Puck and then behind him where Rachel sits.

She gives him a small smile while Judy pulls on his arm. "Russell? What's going on?"

His shoulders slump. "She's not Quinn."

* * *

The next Sunday they meet at the gravesite, she has Holly's car seat with her. He smiles at them and they lay out a blanket for Holly to rest on.

Rachel keeps her most nights but the weeks he only works two days, he'll take her for the bulk of the week. It's not an ideal situation and Rachel's constantly telling him that she worries about her picking up some sort of complex.

It's the best they have for now though.


	8. Chapter 8

So I'd actually written this a while ago when I wasn't paying attention in math class and sort of forgot about it. But I found it yesterday as I was going through my now filled notebook and toyed with it a little, tried making it a little longer but it just seemed to ruin what I'd alreayd written. So I left it pretty much as was. We'll say this is set sometimes during Hello, definitely pre The Power of Madonna. Based it off of the Finn/Quinn scene in preggers when she tells him she's pregnant. Enjoy!

* * *

"Why couldn't you just be the guy everyone thought you were," she asks him desperately. She breathes out heavy puffs of air in the cold Ohio weather surrounding them, staring up at him from her spot on the ground, freezing wet ice making her jeans wet and dirty. Her blonde hair falls messy and curly on her shoulders, her red pea coat making her face look even more red (which he's almost positive is from her breaking down in front of him and not from the harsh cold wind). "I needed you to be that boy Noah."

She hiccups and runs the back of her hand underneath her nose before brushing her tears away (her pale hands are starting to turn blue and he wishes she could just move this mini-breakdown inside where it's warmer). "Why couldn't you be him?"

"Would it have made any difference if I had said it?" He steps off the slick cement, the snow crunching under his shoes as he walks toward her. She stares up at him, face blank and body shaking as he sighs. "You didn't listen to him when he said it." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his thin jacket (he's literally freezing his balls off right now but he's glad that he gave her the money left over from work [and the $100 he stole] to buy the coat that's keeping her and his baby warm).

She squeezes her eyes shut, lips turning downward and hangs her head. "He shouldn't have said that. You should have. He was supposed to care, not you. He was supposed to step up, not you. You were supposed to be the one to tell me that what we did meant nothing and that I should abort it. Why didn't you say that," she sobs and he really wishes he knew why she was bringing this up now, when it's freezing and she's 6 months pregnant. "We've ruined your life… why are you accepting this with open arms?"

He shrugs and her broken face turns into a scowl. "I need more than a shrug asshole."

He smiles as he drops into his knees (he still finds it funny when she curses). "I don't know okay? It never even entered my head. I don't even know why Finn suggested it. He did know that you were uber Christian. Isn't that against your beliefs?"

She nods and sniffs, running her hand under her nose once again. "Everything would've been easier if I just did it," she admits finally, her gaze locked on the dirty white ground below them. "I'm stupid for not having done it."

He rolls his eyes and stands up, brushing the ice from his pants. "No you're not. You wouldn't have done it anyway. Even if I'd told you to." He bends down and grabs her frozen hands, tugging her up so that she stands.

"Really," she challenges as she wipes away the rest of the tears on her face, his hands brushing the dirt and snow off her pants.

"Really. You love her too much." He locks eyes with her and shrugs. "If you'd like to continue your breakdown, we're doing it inside. I'm pretty sure my balls have shriveled up its so fucking cold."


	9. Chapter 9

This is the product of 'Theatricality' (which if you haven't seen/heard about it then this will make almost no sense to you) because after all the epicness, a oneshot needed to be written about these two. Then the idea of Quinn helping Puck take off his make up entered my head and I've been trying to write this since Tuesday night (I was finished at one point yesterday but it was too angsty for my liking [did I really just say that? Too angsty for me? This must be a sign of the apocolypse]). Enjoy! 

* * *

She looks absolutely ridiculous. She's sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the scratched up coffee table, a glass of milk balancing on her rounded stomach. She's still in her Gaga attire from the neck up, her large pink and metal dress replaced with a tank top and his basketball shorts. "You look ridiculous," she tells him, taking her eyes off the TV while she dunks a chocolate chip cookie in the milk on her belly. "I can't believe you drove home while you were still all dressed up."

"Says the girl who still has sequins in her hair." She rolls her eyes as he throws his backpack down next to the door. "Mom home yet?"

She shakes her head, pink strands poking out through her blonde hair. "Jenna's upstairs doing homework. Said your mom said she'd be home late. She picked up another shift or something?" Quinn shrugged, grimacing at the TV. He looks at the screen and sighs heavily.

"You've got to stop watching TLC."

"I will the minute you learn to keep it in your pants," she says with a sweet smile, eating the rest of her cookie. He grabs the last cookie off the plate next to her before heading upstairs, laughing to himself as she yells at him the whole way up.

She travels upstairs once the special she's watching ends, glancing into the bathroom just across the hall from their room. He stands in front of the mirror, still in his larger than life costume, scrubbing his face violently with a washcloth. She steps into the small room that can barely hold her pregnant self, let alone the both of them, her belly brushing up against his side. "You've ruined this washcloth and you're about to scrub your face off," she says, touching his shoulder and locking eyes with him in the mirror. He shrugs and she rolls her eyes before pushing him towards the toilet. "Sit."

She pulls off the long feathered eyelashes and places them on the side of the sink, next to the white face make up he caked on his face that morning. She takes the washcloth from his hands, throwing it into the tub before grabbing an old hand towel out of the cabinet below the sink. It's softer and already stained, and she runs it under the hot water before bringing it to his face. She starts with his forehead, rubbing away the thick make up in small circular motions. "You know, you really shouldn't wash your face with washcloths. It's too harsh on the skin."

He leans into her hand as she moves to his temples, the towel blurring half his vision. "Is that why your's is so pretty?"

She snorts. "Seriously?" He looks up at her with that smirk and she rolls her eyes, moving the towel over his eye that's covered in a black Star of David (one that matches the silver sticker she has on the left side of her chest), pushing a little harder than she should. It's silent between them for a while, Quinn rubbing away all the white make up to reveal tan skin underneath. She can feel the baby move beneath her stomach, foot (or, more than likely, hand based on the position the baby was in during her last ultrasound) pushing against the skin just below her belly button that's recently been pushed out.

"Thank you," he says quietly and she uses her fingers to lift his chin, staining the tips of her fingers white. She smiles and readjusts the towel in her hand, finding a clean section on the fabric to wipe away the white on his chin.

"So, 'Beth' was pretty awesome of you…" They hadn't talked about it after it happened, just like everything else in their lives (didn't talk about sex after they had it, didn't talk about the baking incident after it happened, didn't talk about _anything_ because it was easier that way). He reaches up and pulls off his wig (the same one he used during the Crazy in Love/Hair mash up), shrugging as he tosses it into the sink next to them.

"I try." She smiles again, except this time it's a little sadder. She turns the towel over and wets it again, feeling his hands come to rest on her stomach. He pushes against the tight skin right below her belly button because he knows that's where she's been most active, smiling when he feels the movement underneath his hand. She wants to tell him to stop. To stop making their baby move, to stop touching her belly, to stop finding all these moments of awesome within him because it's exhausting her. She's dead set on giving the baby away when he's a douche; when he's off doing God knows what with Santana (or any other random Cheerio) or when he's off dating Mercedes, she knows that giving the baby to a couple that's older and who can raise her properly is a good idea, the _best_ option for all of them. But it's when he's like this, when he's humming into her belly and she's being nice and helping him with stuff like taking off ridiculous show make up that she thinks just for a second, the world wouldn't end if they kept her. That they could do it, they could do _this_ (she moves her hands away from his face and rest them on top of his) and it will all be okay.

"You know, some days I really hate you," she mumbles, running her nails over the back of his hand before pushing his face back so she can see his face. She wipes away the remaining white along his jaw. "Especially when you do stuff like that." He scrunches up his eyes brows and she moves the towel to wipe away the little bit of black she missed.

"That made you hate me?" He sounds so confused and she nods, grabbing his chin so that she can wipe away the red on his lips. "Why?"

"Because it makes me want to keep her." She stays focused on his lips so that she can't see him process what she's just admitted. She feels his face move underneath her fingers before she finally looks up at his eyes.

"So then, let's keep her." It's that sad smile she wears again as she shakes her head.

"It's not that simple… I only want to keep her when you're Noah, not when you're Puck. And let's face it, you're Puck more often than not." He's irritated, she can tell by the way his jaw tenses in her hand. It's the truth though and it's time for them to stop lying. She tells him to close his whore lips and with one final brush across his lips, his face is clean. "There. All done," she says, running her thumb over his bottom lip before throwing the towel into the tub with the other one.

He wraps his arms around her, bringing her against him so that his head can rest against their daughter. She lets out a breath before leaning down and kissing the top of his head, arms tangled behind his head. They stay like that even though her back's starting to hurt because they both know it's even better like this. When it's just them, in a moment that's so insignificant and so perfect that not the future or the past can haunt them. A moment where they can just _be._

She breaks the silence first. "Can we go get bacon?" He laughs into her stomach and she feels the smile against her skin as the baby moves again, pushing against her stomach. "See, she wants bacon."

They pull away from one another and he nods. "Yeah. We can go somewhere that has bacon." She squeals and does this little dance before rushing out of the room.

"Jenna! We're going out to eat so hurry up!" She pops back into the bathroom and stands in front of the mirror. "You should change though. I'm not going out with you like that," she says as she starts taking out the pink extensions. "Even if I plan on inhaling bacon like there are no more pigs in the world."


	10. Chapter 10

So I wrote this for a prompt over at the glee_kink_meme (I won't say which because it gives away the pairing even though I'm posting this in reply to the prompt lol). Anyway, this is dark. I am not at all kidding when I say NC-17; It deals with physical abuse, including strangulation, as well as rough sex (I seriously felt like an SVU writer when I wrote the bulk of this). I thought about adding more to the end but I didn't want to write something that wasn't perfect and I'm not sure I could achieve that (I'm not even 100% happy with what I'm posting). Title's from Strawberry Gashes by Jack Off Jill. Um... Yeah. Enjoy. Oh! And thanks to Kori for reading this over.

* * *

Nobody is left at school. All of the summer practices (football, Cheerio, Glee, _hockey_) have let out for the day, the five o'clock heat had become too unbearable even for Sue. Everyone is walking slowly to their cars, trying to make it the sweet AC they'll blast as soon as they turn their keys in the ignition. She watches them blankly from the locker room, damp hair hanging around her shoulders, tips wetting the back of her yellow dress.

She may look the same, act the same, wear the same clothes and fake smiles, but she isn't the same. She doesn't belong with any of them anymore. Not with those Cheerio bitches who act like they didn't shun her once she was kicked off the squad. Not with the football players who cat call at her or the hockey players who call her a slut every time she walks by (because unlike the cheerleaders, they refuse to pretend that last year didn't happen). And not with the Glee kids who try and try and try to look at her the same way they did before, like she didn't give away her baby, but ultimately fall a little short.

And then there is him, who looks at her stomach (the complete lack of bump) harshly, fists clenching every time she talks to him.

(Sometimes though, he just looks sad and if she's honest with herself, it makes her sad too.)

She steps out of the locker room, her duffle bag bunching her dress at her hip when she walks. She goes into the main building, the hallway silent and empty. Nobody is around to hear her breathe, hear her flats hit the floor with a quiet muted _thump_, hear her golden hair swish across her shoulder blades. This is what she wants; to be left alone with her thought and be away from the judgmental eyes that still follow her.

Suddenly (though it isn't really because this has happened everyday for the past two weeks) a hand wraps around her hair, pulling violently as another hand grabs her wrist, fingers digging into soft flesh as her arm is jerked behind her. Her duffle bag slips from her shoulder and hits the ground with a loud thud that echoes in the hallway, the man behind her kicking it into the janitor's closet near them. He shoves her in, slamming the door behind him as she knocks against the porcelain utility sink on the far wall. She whimpers as the lip of the white basin hits her hip, making contact with the black and yellow bruise that's already there.

"On your knees," he barks and she slumps down, knees scraping on the grime and fallen nails on the concrete ground. It hurts, the nails imprinting and puncturing her skin but she ignores the pain as he knots a handful of her hair in his fist. His free hand pulls the worn leather out of the metal buckle, fingers quickly flicking open the button on his jeans. She gulps as he slides his zipper down, eyes watering from the combination of pain she feels all over her body. His grip tightens on her hair as he pulls out his dick and it's then that she starts crying. She lets out a sob and he takes that moment when her lips part to shove himself all the way into her mouth.

She chokes around him, tears trailing down her cheeks faster as he guides her head by her hair. He's unrelenting, shoving her face into his crotch, her nose smushing against him every time he lurches her forward. She doesn't know what to do, just that she can't breathe and can't find any sort of rhythm to keep up with in order to make him happy. "Come on," he yells, stilling her face as he pulls her hair so hard she can feel golden strands being ripped out. "Don't act like you don't know how to do this. You do this all the time for me and it seems to be the only thing you know how to do right."

She nods, tears catching in her long lashes as her mouth opens once again, this time voluntarily taking him in. He picks up the same pace he had before but this time her head bobs on her own accord and her mouth closes around him.

His hand falls away from her the moment he realizes that she's figured it out. He looks down at her, seeing only her rat's nest hair and he feels a tug in his chest. He's not sure if he should be disgusted by the fact that she lets him do this to her (that she willingly lets him fuck her like this) or if he should be disgusted with himself for using her desolation against her.

But then, he reasons, she's the one who told him to hit her if he was so angry with her. Really, he could be doing worse things.

Her mouth moves monotonously around him, salty tears occasionally hitting his skin when she has him completely enveloped. She's likely crying for a multitude of reasons (the one that hurts the least is probably the physical bleeding from her knees) but it's her fault she's like this. He snarls at her to suck him right, to not just take him into her mouth but to make him feel good. "You owe me that at the fucking least."

She quickly switches it up, tongue now moving around him instead of laying limp in her mouth, before his hand can go back to her hair. She bites playfully (though nothing about what they do, what they are, is playful) when she reaches the head of his cock and he groans, hips bucking forward. She nearly chokes again but manages to move her head with the unexpected movement before she repeats the motion.

She feels his body start to tense up a few seconds later, his hand raising to her hair to pull her away. She pulls off him with a pop, wiping her nose with the back of her hand when he steps back. He runs a shaking hand through his hair, breathing in deeply through his nose as he looks down at her, watching as her hands twitch at her side. "Does it hurt?" Her fingers run along the sides of her legs, itching to move just a little bit further down and put pressure on her aching knees. She keeps her head down when she nods, only looking up when he asks if she thinks she deserves it.

She doesn't know. When she gave Beth away, it hurt _so_ much; that little girl, that baby, was hers (_theirs,_ he always reminds her) and she wanted so badly to be her mom. She wanted to take her home, tell her she loves her everyday, watch her grow into a beautiful young woman. But at the same time she felt so relieved when she left the hospital empty. As much as she wanted to keep her baby, she wanted to give her away just as much. She wanted to be popular again, she wanted to be a Cheerio and HBIC, she wanted her _normal_ life back, she wanted her family (_father_) back. She wanted to be able to go to parties and not have to worry about where she is going to live next week. She was selfish as fuck when she let Shelby Corcoran take her baby and as sad as Quinn was, she was happy to see them go. This situation would be better for her anyway, having a mother who could take care of her, someone who wasn't a fuck up like Quinn. "I don't know," she answers quietly and he shakes his head as soon as the words leave her mouth.

"You gave away _my_ baby," he screams at her, grabbing her chin roughly so she's forced to look at him. "You deserve to feel like _shit_." His hand moves to her hair, tangling the blonde strands in his fingers and yanking her up. She lets out a cry when she feels the nails drop from her skin as she stands up. "Shut up!" He pushes her until she hits the sink once more, instructing her to sit on it. "What you feel now doesn't even come _close_ to how I feel." He lifts up her dress and snickers when he notices that she isn't wearing any underwear. "You're such a fucking slut."

She wants to yell, tell him he's wrong, that the only people who have touched her are Puck and him, but he's mad and upset because of what she did so she nods her head (she'll take the blame if he wants to place it on her). "I'm sorry," she mutters, trying to take his cheeks in her hands so he'll finally look her in the eye.

"Sorry," he spits, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head. "You're _sorry_? You fucked up my entire life and the only thing you can say is _sorry_?" He tightens his grip around her thin wrists, squeezing lightly as his other hand moves between her legs. He shoves three fingers inside her without any preamble, causing her to let out something between a strangled cry and a moan.

He pumps in and out of her roughly, curling his fingers with each thrust. She bites down on her bottom lip so hard she can taste the metallic flavor on her tongue, her body throbbing all over. He stares at her with so much hate and loathing in his eyes that a shiver runs through her whole body, thighs tightening around his hips. She has to look down because he looks so broken, so fucking miserable and for the first time since they've begun this tragic little… _thing_, she realizes this is her fault. It's her fault he looks like a zombie most days, that his face remains unshaven, that he's completely alone even if he's surrounded by a school full of people. Her eyes focus on his hands, right hand pushing inside of her relentlessly up to his knuckles, the one previously holding her hands together now keeping her thigh far apart from the other, calloused fingers spread and depressing her skin.

And then it hits her.

She _does _deserves this. Giving away Beth was only good for her; everyone else got their lives ruined. She fucked over Puck (she gave away his daughter and ignored him the minute they left the hospital), she made a fool out of Finn (lying to and manipulating him until he was embarrassed in front of Glee club and the entire school), and she ruined Mr. Schuester's marriage (if she's being honest with herself, she ruined the people in that marriage too).

The whole time they've been doing this twisted thing, she's never once believed she deserved this; always thought she'd just put up with this because he's hurt and needs to take his anger out on someone (and it may as well be her since she already feels so damn shitty). But now… Now she finally sees that this mess that's enveloped all the Glee club members is 100% her fault.

This makes her start crying even harder, even louder, and he pulls his fingers out of her, moving them so they wrap around her pale neck. "Shut up," he spits, his fingertips digging into her skin as he begins to close his fingers around her neck. He wants her to stop crying, wants her to stop hurting, just wants everything to _stop_ for both of them. But it hasn't stopped and he's been hurting and _angry_ for _months_ now and it's not fucking fair. He should be able to go on with his life, not live with the memory of a daughter that was never really his. He shouldn't be reminded of what could have been every time he so much as looks at Quinn's name.

She forces herself to keep her eyes open; she wants to commit to memory the look he has on his face when he does this to her. Usually when this happens he just looks so damn furious that she's honestly surprised that she leaves with only a bruised hip and aching scalp. But now, it's like it's finally clicked in his head that he's just as ruined as she is. Except now that she's welcoming her punishment with open arms, he looks at her like he could start sobbing at any given moment.

(This would make her break down and cry more if she could actually take a breath.)

He squeezes even tighter because, _fuck,_ him feeling like shit was not how this was supposed to go down; he was supposed to just be mad at her, _furious_ with her because she ruined his family, not miserable and sad. Suddenly she can't keep her eyes open anymore; they flutter shut, long lashes hitting her skin slowly, and when he doesn't see her hazel eyes after a beat, he drops his hand immediately, only to grab her by the shoulders so she doesn't fall into the utility sink as she gasps desperately. "Quinn," he asks worriedly, pushing her knotted hair out of her face. She coughs, slender fingers touching her purpled skin cautiously. "Oh my god…"

She coughs again, choking on her own spit, throat burning every time she breathes in. She stares at the nails mixed in with drops of her blood on the disgusting concrete floor, blinking and breathing slow as she tries to comprehend what just happened. "Quinn." She can't look up at him, doesn't think she can physically raise her head without getting so dizzy that she'd pass out.

_This_ has gone too far. This… this… Whatever the fuck _this_ is wasn't supposed to happen at all. But it did and it was wrong, oh so very wrong, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. She was depressed and he was so motherfucking angry that it worked (him treating her like his own personal rag doll and her barely even fighting back). This though? The fact that he just almost killed Quinn scares him beyond belief. He knew that taking his anger out on her wasn't right, that he's actually a sick little fuck for not working through his issues _normally_ but it's never gone this far.

"I'm so sorry," he manages to get out and it's not until those words leave his mouth that she looks up.

"Why are we like this," she mumbles voice raspy and hard. He blinks in surprise, staring at her crumbled face and colored neck as she pushes her bright sundress that doesn't belong in such a damp, dark room down. Her eyes are dry but she still looks so _annihilated_ that he thinks this look is ten times more worse than her crying. "Why are we _doing this_? People don't so _this_." She just watched as he chocked her, she just fucking _watched_. It never really occurred to her when he slipped his hand around her throat that he'd kill her but now that she's still struggling for air, she thinks she might've preferred that he hadn't grown a conscious and went through with it. She feels like shit for what she's done to everyone, for what she's doing with him, that maybe it would've been better for everyone.

But she looks as the man (_boy_) in front of her falls to his knees, this time the nails digging into him, imprinting him and leaving harsh marks that'll be there for days. She watches as he starts _sobbing_, starts crying for the first time since she gave away Beth, and she realizes she's glad he didn't kill her. Because that probably would've ruined him for good and he needs to be fixed (_they_ need to be fixed). "I'm so _sorry_," he repeats and she wraps her arms around his head, fingers sliding through his curls as she brings his head to rest on her stomach.

"It's okay Mr. Schuester," she says with a shaky breath as his tears soak her dress.

"I just want my family… I just want my daughter."


	11. Love is Mean

**Title:** Love is Mean  
**Author:** only_because3/jeytonbrucasnaley/idontneedtobeforgiven  
**Rating:** T?  
**Word Count:** 414  
**Author's Note:** I've been angsting a lot today and this is sort of been something I wanted to tell for a while. Not sure if I did what I wanted to do but *shrug* Takes place after season 2 but before season 3. Quinn centric (you're shocked, I know)

* * *

You're trying in vain to smile as the Evans' loaded station wagon drives away from the sad motel they've been living in for months. You're happy for them; they're going to a huge house and both of Sam's parents found jobs. But you're having a hard time shaking the feeling of Stacey pressed against your chest, hugging you as tightly as a six year old could and Stevie pressed against your legs, clutching at the fabric of your dress.

You haven't worn this dress in a year.

It's been sitting in the back of your closet, along with a bunch of other sun dresses three sizes too big for you now. You oh so fondly referred to it as your tent during the last month of your pregnancy, even though it was one you owned prior to your fall from grace. You never wore it before then because it was low cut, too low cut to be made modest with a cardigan, and truthfully only purchased it because Santana didn't think you would.

It's a simple black dress that reaches your feet and the straps are thick enough that they supported your swollen breasts. The fabric is light, airy almost, and it reminds you of the beach even though you've never even seen the ocean.

You shoved it to the back of your closet as soon as you got home that day, just like you shoved the last eight months to the back of your mind. You weren't able to escape waking up in puddles because your body doesn't know what to do with all the milk it produced for a child you gave away. You weren't able to erase the stretch marks lining your stomach and breasts.

You were determined not to be a mess but you were. You were suffocating behind your carefully crafted mask but you didn't want to let Sam, or anyone for that matter, rip it off your face. But Sam needed help, those kids needed help, and this time, doing the right thing felt good. It felt _right._

But now you're standing in front of a motel in the blazing sun, alone. Just like you were almost a year ago to the day. You feel the sudden urge to burn this dress and if you'd known you had to say goodbye today, you would've left it on the hanger to collect dust.

You've just discovered rock bottom and you're not sure it's worth it to crawl back up.


End file.
